balrogsfandomcom-20200214-history
Songs
__FORCETOC__ Moria (Words by Taruithorn, Tune: Ding! Dong! Merrily on High!) Drum, drum, drumming in the deep, The Balrog’s getting nearer. Drum, drum, drumming in the deep, The Cave Troll’s getting clearer. Mo-o-o-o-o-o/-o-o-o-o-o-o/-o-o-o-o-o-o/ -o-o-o-o-o/-o-o-o-o-o-o/-oria, Balrogs ate our children! The Wild Ranger Words by many Taruithorn members, tune The Wild Rover) I've been a wild Ranger for many a year And I've lived all that time under shadow of fear But now I'm retiring and taking my rest Going back to the Last Homely House in the West. CHORUS: And it's no, nay, never (get down off that horse) No nay never, no more Will I play the wild Ranger, No never, no more. I've travelled in Mordor, in Harad and Rhûn, And I've known nights of grief and I've known nights of fûn, But now my sword's blunted, and bent at the tip, I can't swing all night 'cos I must have me kip. CHORUS A maiden of Rohan said to me, "I trow That I can't take my eyes off the star on your brow." I said to her, "Lady, let's lie in the grass, And I'll show you the star that's embossed on my a--." CHORUS In Gondor I wooed me a sprightly young wench, Who fondled my falchion behind a park bench. Her brothers they threw me from the old city walls, Thanks be to the Valar they left me my b---- . CHORUS I courted an Elf-maid who plied me with beer, And I swore that I'd make her my lover most dear. But wenching while drinking is certain to fail, For you can't keep your sword up when fuddled with ale. CHORUS One winter of snow with the Lossoth I stayed, And I met a brass monkey who asked for my aid. I said, "I can't stay for I'm heading homewards, To fix these brass pommels on a spare pair of swords." CHORUS I once saw a Nazgûl high up in the air And I shouted, "Come down here and fight if you dare." His horny-winged beast put its tail up on high, And four pounds of s--- landed right in my eye. CHORUS My wanderings are over, I've unstrung my bow, My eyesight is failing and I'm getting slow. In Rivendell I'm well looked after and fed... But I'll chase Elrond's housemaids until I drop dead! CHORUS Periodic Table of Elvish Names Words by Carl H-- and Patrick W--. (With apologies to Tom Lehrer.) Tune 'The Major-General's Song' by Arthur Sullivan. There's Baragund and Belegund and Beregond and Barahir, Beren, Mandos, Lúthien, Isildur, Tar-Atanamir; Umbardacil, Hyarmendacil, Rómendacil and Ardamir, Castamir and Cirion and Calmacil and Vardamir; Morwen and Silmarien, Gilthoniel and Fíriel, Nienor, Lothíriel, Lindórië and Míriel; Hallacar and Hallatan and Huor, Húrin Thalion deep breath Bëor, Beleg, Bregor, Brodda, Tuor, Túrin, Galion. There's Glóredhel, Adanedhel, Tindómiel and Aravir, Aravorn and Belegorn and Boromir and Faramir; Tar-Ciryatan, Atanatar, Tar-Minyatur, Anárion, and Herenúmen, Herumor, Elendil, Tar-Aldarion: Gildor, Galdor, Gundor, Uldor, Arador and Bregolas, Haldir, Handir, Brandir, Mardil, Mormegil and Legolas; Araphant and Araphor and Arvegil and Arathorn, Araglas and Argeleb and Aragost and Aragorn. Elu Thingol, Melian, and Eluréd and Elurín, Maedhros, Maglor, Amrod, Amras, Celegorm and Curufin; Finwë, Finrod Felagund, Finduilas and Fëanor breath Daeron, Dior, Draugluin and Diriel and Denethor; Elwë, Olwë, Ingwë, Manwë, Tinwë Linto, Elrohir, Elmo, Ulmo, Irmo, Námo, Súlimo and Curunír Quenya and Taliska and Kornoldorin and Lindarin, Adûnaic, Dwarvish, Orkish, Danian and Sindarin. These aren't the only ones of whom the news has come from Arda, but we could not include them all: that would have been much harder Song of the Dwarves of Moria (Words: Hebe, Amrit, Joseph et al. Tune: ''Do You Hear the People Sing from Les Misérables)'' (CHORUS:) Do you hear the dwarf-smiths sing? Singing the songs they learned of old. This is the music of a people Who are quite obsessed with GOLD. When the beating of our hearts Echoes the beating of the drums Then we know we’re about to die when the Balrog comes… Will you join our mining party Will you help us in our need? There’s a tonne of Mithril ore down there just waiting to be freed! We’ll mine and we’ll dig and we’ll die for insatiable greeeeeeeeed! 'The Leaving of Valinor Rag' Words: Owen, Toby, Becky et al. Tune: ''The Vatican Rag ''by Tom Lehrer Morgoth smashed our lamps with ease So we got some magic trees Their wond’rous light we must instil In Silmaril, Silmaril, Silmaril. But then came Ungoliant She sucked their nectar – down it went! Things they then got really bad:   Fëanor he lost his dad The leavin’ of Valinor Rag! Be friend or foe or seed defiled Of Morgoth Bauglir, mortal child In after days on earth shall dwell No law nor love nor league of hell Not might of gods, not moveless fate Shall him defend from wrath or hate 6-5-4-3Time to slay the Teleri Valinor will not be missed We seven sons are mighty pissed We seek with implacable will Our Silmaril, Silmaril, Silmaril The boats are burned to tindersticks The seven sons now number six Melian the Maia – let’s go and say hiya We’re the sons of Fëanor Accompaniment by Maglor Was he a felon or simply just tellin’ your Leavin’ of Valinor Rag! Underneath the Shadow Words by Stephen L--, Chris J--and Kathryn M--).Tune 'What shall we do with the Drunken Sailor?' '' What shall we do with the men of Gondor? (x3) Underneath the Shadow. Chase 'em to the hills and burn their houses (x3) Underneath the Shadow! ''CHORUS: Come join Sauron's army (x3) Underneath the Shadow! …What shall we do with the men of Rohan? (x3) … Make 'em all walk and eat their horses (x3) CHORUS …What shall we do with the dwarves of Moria? …Chase 'em from the hills and burn their beards off CHORUS …What shall we do with the elves of Mirkwood? …Drink their wine and shoot their minstrels CHORUS …What shall we do with the little hobbits? …Shave their feet and raid their larder CHORUS …What shall we do with the ents of Fangorn …Eat their nuts and strip their bark off Saruman's Elite (War March Of The Uruk-Hai) Words by Andy H--. Tune 'Ode to Joy' by Ludwig van Beethoven*. Balrogs, Goblins, Trolls and Mewlips, creepy things from Khazad-Dûm, Crush the lilies and the tulips, dig up corpses from the tombs. Slimy spiders, Shelob's daughters, spin your webs across the plain, And we'll march off to the slaughter through the cold torrential rain. Uruk-Hai, we'll march remorseless, kill the riders in the fields, Slay the men and rape the horses, blunt the swords and smash the shields. Then to Orthanc back we'll wander, feast on horse and hobbit meat, Tear Théoden's troops asunder, `cause we're Saruman's elite. Earusalem Words by Marc R--.'' 'Tune 'Jerusalem' by Charles Parry.'' And were those ears in Ancient time Narrow and pointed at the top? And were they like the ears of men? Or like a rabbit's did they flop? And did the elves get too upset When other races did them mock? And is it really true Legolas Resembled closely Mister Spock? Bring me my Foster's Guide of gold, Bring me the works of J.R.R., Bring me some cash that I can fold, For reference works from near and far! I shall not cease from mental strife Nor shall my books rest on my shelf, 'Till I know how the ears would have looked On any self-respecting elf. '''The Wood-Elves' Banquet Words by Brin D--. Tune 'The Teddybears Picnic'. If you go down to the woods tonight You're sure of a big surprise If you go down to the woods tonight You'll never believe your eyes For every Elf that ever there was Is gathered there for certain, because Tonight's the night the Wood-elves have their banquet Feasting time for Sylvan Elves The merry Woodland Elves are having a lovely time tonight See how they enjoy themselves For every one's intent on getting tight Thranduil is sinking fast His leafy crown is slipping into his mug of ale Legolas is looking sheepish and wry, nursing a big black eye He made a pass at Galadriel Now every Elf that's ever been good Is sure of a treat tonight The Elven chefs are making a dish To please the appetite In all the pans there bubbles a broth Five hairy toes stick out of the froth You bet your life they're cooking more than than mushrooms If you go down to the woods tonight You'd better not go alone It's loads of fun in the woods tonight But safer to stay at home Míriel's lad's a horrible sight With Silmarils sewn onto his tights They don't call Fëanor "Fairy Lights" for nothing Feasting time for Sylvan Elves The merry Woodland Elves are having a decadent time today Barfing in the Nimrodel O what would the Professor have to say? See them crawling on their knees Or leaning on the trees, they cannot stand by themselves – At twelve o'clock the Nazgûl are coming to take them all away Because they're smashed little Woodland Elves. 'All You Need Are Rings' Words by Stephen L--, Ruth & Pete C--and Marc & Jenny R--. Tune 'All You Need Is Love' by John Lennon & Paul McCartney. RINGS, RINGS, RINGS. RINGS, RINGS, RINGS. RINGS, RINGS, RINGS. There's nothing you can do that can't be crushed, Nothing you can sing that can't be hushed, Nothing you can say, but you will be slaves for ever and ever It's easy! Nothing you can make that can't be marred, No-one you can save that can't be scarred, Nothing you can do, but you will turn into Ringwraiths in time It's easy! '' '' All you need are Rings; All you need are Rings; All you need are Rings, Rings, Rings are all you need. RINGS, RINGS, RINGS. RINGS, RINGS, RINGS. RINGS, RINGS, RINGS. There's nothing you can know that isn't lies, Nothing you can see without your eyes, Nowhere you can be that is far enough from me I'm evil! All you need are Rings there's no escaping them! All you need are Rings for everybody! All you need are Rings, Rings Rings are all you need. All you need are Rings; Rings are all you need. All you need are Rings; Rings are all you need ha ha you can't escape! All you need are Ringss Rings are all you need ash nazg durbatulûk! All you need are Rings; Rings are all you need.... 'Song Of The Middle-Earth Workers' Words by Christine D--., Tune 'The Lumberjack Song' by Monty Python's Flying Circus. I'm a hob-b-bit and I'm OK I drink all night and I eat all day. He's a hob-b-bit and he's OK He drinks all night and he eats all day. I sing rude songs, I tell tall tales, I brush my furry toes, I like to have communal baths And take off all my clothes. I'm a Rider bold and I'm OK I drink all night and I trot all day. He's a Rider bold and he's OK He drinks all night and he trots all day. I like to chase marauding Orcs, It stops me getting bored. The girls all love my harness, I never sheath my sword. I'm a Dwarf, I am and I'm OK I delve all night and I forge all day. '' ''He's a Dwarf, he is and he's OK He delves all night and he forges all day. I mine for gold and precious jewels, My mattress for to stuff. No lady Dwarf will have me, I just can't get enough. I'm an Elf, I am, and I'm OK I feast all night and I run all day. He's an Elf, he is, and he's OK He feasts all night and he runs all day. I dance with grace, I also sing, My voice is rather high. I always hunt the noble stag, I'm sure you can guess why. I'm a Ranger bold, and I'm OK I track all night and I fight all day. He's a Ranger bold, and he's OK he tracks all night and he fights all day. I roam the Wilds to keep folk safe, A lonely life, its true. But when my camp-fire's burning, I know just what to do. I'm a Naz-a-gûl and I'm OK I'm high all night and I hiss all day. He's a Naz-a-gûl and he's OK He's high all night and he hisses all day. I wear a ring, and long black robes, I love inflicting pain. There's nine of us, we all take turns, It's cut and come again Yesterday (This was started off in a car /en route/ for Milton Keynes. Sarah S--is responsible'' 'for' 'the' 'first' 'bit,' 'with' 'assistance' 'from' 'David' 'M--,' 'Andrew' 'McM--, Victoria C--and myself. I have written the rest of it since then. Marc ) Tune' Yesterday 'by' 'John' 'Lennon' '&' 'Paul' 'McCartney' '(as' 'if' 'you' 'couldn't' 'guess).'' Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away Now it looks as though they're here to stay, Oh, I believe in Yesterday. Suddenly, there's a Balrog looming over me And I really think it's time to flee, Before I'm squashed to two foot three... Why I've got this quest I don't know, no-one can say. First it was "Off to Bree", and now I'm miles away (from home now)... Blow this quest! Gandalf's dead, I'm feeling so depressed, Can't we stay in Lórien, have a rest? I don't know what is for the best! Boromir - now he's acting really very queer. Still, I suppose there's nothing much to fear If I can keep old Strider near. How this Ring came into my hands is really odd. Even Gandalf thought it best called an Act of God (that's worrying)... Sauron's lair... chuck this Ring into that crack right there... That'll mean an end to fear and care. But could I use it? Do I dare? I don't know - how can just one Ring cause so much woe? And I can't seem to tell friend from foe, Oh, get me back to Bagshot row! Everyone says that they'll help, but who to trust? Make one wrong move and Middle-earth is turned to dust (by Sauron)... Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away, Now it looks as though they're here to stay, Oh, I believe in Yesterday! '''ON ETTENMOOR BAHT 'AT Words by Nick Brooke et al. Tune 'Ilkley Moor' (Trad.) Where has tha bin since I saw thee? (I saw thee?) On Ettenmoor baht 'at! Where has tha bin since I saw thee? Where has tha bin since I saw thee? (With Rings of Power on!) On Ettenmoor baht 'at, On Ettenmoor baht 'at, On Ettenmoor baht 'at (where the Orcs play football league) Tha's bin a-courtin' Pippin Took... Tha'll go and catch they death o' plague... Then we shall have to bury thee... The t'worms will come and eat thee up... Then t'orcs will come and eat up t'worms... Then we shall come and hunt down t'orcs... There is a moral to this tale... DON'T go a-courtin' Pippin Took! (Pippin Took!) On Ettenmoor baht 'at - Don't go a-courtin' Pippin Took Don't go a-courtin' Pippin Took (with Rings of Power on!) On Ettenmoor baht 'at, On Ettenmoor baht 'at, On Ettenmoor baht 'at (where the Orcs play football league) 'The Song Of The White Tree' Words by Alice C--, ''Tune 'I Will Survive' by Gloria Gaynor.'' At first I was afraid, I was petrified My leaves were falling off, it was arboricide My Vingilot was sunk, I was a hollow lifeless trunk I nearly died - but now I hold my branches high And so I'm back from colder clime Twiggy's queen of style again, I think it's more than time These untidy walls with orc-heads don't do much aesthetically It's plain that Minas Tirith just can't manage without me So grow now grow, wood muscles bulge I'm eating compost 'cos I might as will indulge When you saw me here I surely noticed that you blinked A poor unprotected species - did you think I was extinct? Oh no not I, I will survive As long as there are Dúnedain you'll know I'm still alive And on some mountain in the east I will proliferate like yeast And I'll survive, I will survive Hey hey Boromir thought my publicity potential weak His successor Mardil was a Venus fly-trap freak And of late the stewards swing to seeking out this wretched ring Well when it comes to friendly gardeners I've always liked a king And you see me, all clean as snow The improvements of the bark-lift really seem to show Admire my shiny surface, scented, pure and free of lice - Though I grew it all myself I must admit it's rather nice So grow now grow, etc. (repeat ad nauseam) Thranduil’s song Words by Eleanor C--S--. Tune'': Gaston, from Beauty and the Beast No one fights like the king, shines as bright as the king, can shoot anything in his sights like the king. ''(He especially enjoys trick spider shooting!) Hail Thranduil, our king! No one has the height of the king, or the might of the king, every Sinda on Tinder swipes right to the king. (As our monarch he is quite captivating!) Hail Thranduil, our king. You’re a sparkling model of Elfhood! And thine is the shiniest hair. You have total control of the Greenwood, So beware any dwarf we find wandering there…. No one rules like the king Suffers fools like the king Spends all of our budget on jewels like the king He untangles dip-LO-matic brangles! Hail Thranduil our king. No one’s hot as the king, downs his shots like the king, has a Party Elk ready to trot for the king! He hasn’t been sober for two thousand years, Hail Thranduil our king! THRANDUIL: Dorwinion wine has a powerful taste And your king has a powerful thirst So fetch me a bottle, nay, fetch me a barrel And we’ll see who can drink it down first! CHORUS: Ai, ai! Hail Thranduil, our king! No one fights like the king, shines as bright as the king, can shoot anything in his sights like the king. (He especially enjoys trick spider shooting!) Hail Thranduil, our king! Matty Groves (trad) A holiday, a holiday And the first one of the year Lord Donald's wife came into the church The Gospel for to hear And when the meeting it was done She cast her eyes about And there she saw little Matty Groves Walking in the crowd "Come home with me, little Matty Groves Come home with me tonight Come home with me, little Matty Groves And sleep with me 'til light" "Oh, I can't come home, I won't come home And sleep with you tonight By the rings on your fingers I can tell you are Lord Donald's wife" "But if I am Lord Donald's wife Lord Donald's not at home He is out in the far cornfields Bringing the yearlings home" Little Matty Groves, he lay down And took a little sleep When he awoke, Lord Donald Was standing at his feet Saying, "How do you like my feather bed And how do you like my sheets How do you like my lady Who lies in your arms asleep?" "Oh, well, I like your feather bed And well, I like your sheets But better I like your lady gay Who lies in my arms asleep" "Well, get up, get up", Lord Donald cried "Get up as quick as you can It'll never be said in fair England I slew a naked man" "Oh, I can't get up, I won't get up I can't get up for my life For you have two long beaten swords And I not a pocket knife" "Well, it's true I have two beaten swords And they cost me deep in the purse But you will have the better of them And I will have the worse" "And you will strike the very first blow And strike it like a man I will strike the very next blow And I'll kill you if I can" So Matty struck the very first blow And he hurt Lord Donald sore Lord Donald struck the very next blow And Matty struck no more And then Lord Donald he took his wife And he sat her on his knee Saying, "Who do you like the best of us Matty Groves or me?" And then up spoke his own dear wife Never heard to speak so free "I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips Than you or your finery" Lord Donald, he jumped up And loudly he did bawl He struck his wife right through the heart And pinned her against the wall "A grave, a grave", Lord Donald cried "To put these lovers in But bury my lady at the top For she was of noble kin" The Wild Punter the tune of 'The Wild Rover' I've been a wild punter for many a year, And I've spent all my money on wine, Pimms and beer. And now I'm returning my pole to the store And I swear I will play the wild punter no more. (Chorus) And it's no, nay, never (Get out of that tree!) No, nay, never, no more, Will I play the wild punter, No, never, no more... I've punted the Isis, the Cherwell, the Cam; I've punted through tourists and don't give a damn; I've punted in sunshine, I've punted in rain; I've punted to Islip; won't do that again! (Chorus) Some times when I'm punting I don't have much luck, And once in a while I have run down a duck, But ducks are as nothing compared to a swan; More vicious by far than a rampaging don. (Chorus) When out by the Ringroad I turned a tight turn, Got stuck in the reeds; I never will learn. That wash wasn't too bad, but I really do wish I hadn't got stuck right next to a dead fish. (Chorus) Just after my Finals I went in my gown, I looked very smart but I nearly did drown, I was drinking some bubbly and Pimms from a tin When a branch caught my bow tie and pulled me right in. (Chorus) I've punted up rollers, I've punted down weirs I've punted with geeks and I've punted with queers It's a funny old city, you never know when You might just have punted with a future PM (Chorus) The river is risky, the water is cold, With Leptospirosis and horrors untold, We've drunk all our wine and we've ate all our grub, So it's back to the boathouse, then off to the pub. And it's no, nay, never (Last orders please!) No, nay, never, no more, Will I play the wild punter, No, never, no more... ''The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins'' In the Middle of the Earth, in the land of Shire Lives a brave little hobbit whom we all admire With his long, wooden pipe Fuzzy, wooly toes He lives in a hobbit-hole and everybody knows him Bilbo (Bilbo!), Bilbo Baggins He's only three feet tall Bilbo (Bilbo!), Bilbo Baggins The bravest little hobbit of 'em all! Now, hobbits are peace-loving folks, you know They're never in a hurry and they take things slow They don't like to travel away from home They just like to eat and be left alone! But one day Bilbo was asked to go On a big adventure to the caves below To help some dwarves get back their gold That was stolen by a dragon in the days of old CHORUS (Spoken) Well he fought with the goblins! He battled a troll! He riddled with Gollum! A magic ring he stole! He was chased by wolves! Lost in the forest! Escaped in a barrel from the elf-king's halls! CHORUS Now he's back in his hole in the land of Shire That brave little hobbit whom we all admire Just a-sittin' on a treasure of silver and gold A-puffin' on his pipe in his hobbit-hole! I See Fire Oh, misty eye of the mountain below Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke Keep watching over Durin's son If this is to end in fire Then we should all burn together Watch the flames climb high into the night Calling out for the rope, sent by and we will Watch the flames burn on and on the mountain side hey And if we should die tonight Then we should all die together Raise a glass of wine for the last time Calling out for the rope Prepare as we will Watch the flames burn on and on the mountain side Desolation comes upon the sky Now I see fire, inside the mountain I see fire, burning the trees And I see fire, hollowing souls And I see fire, blood in the breeze And I hope that you'll remember me Oh, should my people fall Then surely I'll do the same Confined in mountain halls We got too close to the flame Calling out father hold fast and we will Watch the flames burn on and on the mountain side Desolation comes upon the sky Now I see fire, inside the mountain I see fire, burning the trees And I see fire, hollowing souls And I see fire, blood in the breeze And I hope that you'll remember me And if the night is burning I will cover my eyes For if the dark returns then My brothers will die And as the sky's falling down It crashed into this lonely town And with that shadow upon the ground I hear my people screaming out Now I see fire, inside the mountain I see fire, burning the trees And I see fire, hollowing souls And I see fire, blood in the breeze I see fire, oh you know I saw a city burning And I see fire, feel the heat upon my skin And I see fire (fire) And I see fire (burn on and on mountains side) Into the West Lay down Your sweet and weary head The night is falling You have come to journey's end Sleep now And dream of the ones who came before They are calling From across the distant shore Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face? Soon you will see All of your fears will pass away Safe in my arms You're only sleeping What can you see On the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea A pale moon rises The ships have come to carry you home And all will turn To silver glass A light on the water All Souls pass Hope fades Into the world of night Through shadows falling Out of memory and time Don't say We have come now to the end White shores are calling You and I will meet again And you'll be here in my arms Just sleeping And all will turn To silver glass A light on the water Grey ships pass Into the West Chip the glasses Chip the glasses and crack the plates! Blunt the knives and bend the forks! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates— Smash the bottles and burn the corks! Cut the cloth and tread on the fat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Splash the wine on every door! Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl; Pound them up with a thumping pole; And when you’ve finished if any are whole, Send them down the hall to roll! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates! So, carefully! carefully with the plates! Misty Mountains Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To seek our pale enchanted gold. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells, In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. For ancient king and elvish lord There many a gleaming golden hoard They shaped and wrought, and light they caught, To hide in gems on hilt of sword. On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, on twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun. Far over the Misty Mountains cold, To dungeons deep and caverns old, We must away, ere break of day, To claim our long-forgotten gold. Goblets they carved there for themselves, And harps of gold, where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves. The pines were roaring on the heights, The wind was moaning in the night, The fire was red, it flaming spread, The trees like torches blazed with light. The bells were ringing in the dale, And men looked up with faces pale. The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire, Laid low their towers and houses frail. The mountain smoked beneath the moon. The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled the hall to dying fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon. Far over the Misty Mountains grim, To dungeons deep and caverns dim, We must away, ere break of day, To win our harps and gold from him! Song of Durin''' The world was young, the mountains green, No stain yet on the Moon was seen, No words were laid on stream or stone, When Durin woke and walked alone. He named the nameless hills and dells; He drank from yet untasted wells; He stooped and looked in Mirrormere, And saw a crown of stars appear, As gems upon a silver thread, Above the shadow of his head. The world was fair, the mountains tall, In Elder Days before the fall Of mighty Kings in Nargothrond And Gondolin, who now beyond The Western Seas have passed away: The world was fair in Durin's Day. A king he was on carven throne In many-pillared halls of stone With golden roof and silver floor, And runes of power upon the door. The light of sun and star and moon In shining lamps of crystal hewn Undimmed by cloud or shade of night There shone forever fair and bright. There hammer on the anvil smote, There chisel clove, and graver wrote; There blade was forged and bound the hilt; The delver mined, the mason built. There beryl, pearl, and opal pale And metal wrought like fishes' mail, Buckler and corslet, axe and sword, And shining spears were laid in horde. Unwearied then were Durin's folk; Beneath the mountains music woke: The harpers harped, the minstrels sang, And at the gates the trumpets rang. The world is grey, the mountains old, The forge's fire is ashen-cold; No harp is wrung, no hammer falls: The darkness dwells in Durin's halls; The shadow lies upon his tomb In Moria, in Khazad-dûm. But still the sunken stars appear In dark and windless Mirrormere; There lies his crown in water deep, Till Durin wakes again from sleep.